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It’s almost a knee jerk reaction after speaking to follow up your thought with, “does this make sense?” I don’t have a good answer as to why axioms like this catch fire, breed across our pages and fall from our lips like Pavlov’s dog…but this one needs to be retired! Or at least upgraded. Do you really want to know if you’re making sense? If so, I’m sure you can find a more sincere way to find out if you’re making sense to your audience. What are you really telling your listeners when you ask them if you make sense?

1.) Does this make sense (translation: I’m not confident in what I’m speaking about)

2. Does this make sense (translation: I am confident in what I’m speaking about and if you have any questions then you’re either a.) a jerk or b.) a total dummkopfe that you don’t understand what I’m talking about. Just nod your head.

3.) Does this make sense (translation: I am sincere in that I want to know if I’m communicating in a way that you grok; however, I can’t come up with a better way of saying this directly to you so I guess I’m not making sense.

4.) Does this make sense (translation: I really like to go along with the crowd and say many things by rote without thinking about what it is that I’m saying and this ending adds the veneer of being sincere about what I’m saying even though I haven’t really thought through what I’m telling you but want credit for doing it anyway.

By the way, I stand corrected if run across any of my past comments, articles, blogs or interviews on line and you hear or read “does this make sense!” After all, it takes one to know one.

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One of the most difficult things to remember when you suffer from the blues now and again or full-blown depression is that there really will be sunshine after the storm. Part of the insidiousness of experiencing the tarry black hole of despair is that, when in the midst of it, we’re convinced that this is the way our life is, the way our life has always been and the way our life will always be.

Repeat after me: This is NOT the way it has ALWAYS been, this is NOT the way it will ALWAYS be and there REALLY WILL BE SUNSHINE AFTER THE STORM.

Repeat as necessary.

If you’ve read my blogs, you know that some of the tools that I’ve created and include in my trusty tool box of “having the life I truly want” may only be found in my tool box…so I share them with you to inspire you to take, use, re-design and/or create a totally new tool for yourself.

One such tool is to get really angry at the inky black despair that has slowly filled in the edges of my life. Eventually, somehow, that anger attracts humor which births my own personal form of really dark humor. Might not be appreciated much by Mother Theresa, but it does manage to help me break into the main shaft of the catacombs of my depression to begin the trek towards the light.

It must of been during one of these dank episodes that a fellow traveler of life coined the phrase “Really?!?!?”. Saying, “really?!” feels so app when you’re simmering your anger within a broth of blue and begin noticing just how many ingredients it took to make up this stew that you’re in. I’ve had moments in this midst that I have actually felt burbling laughs of glee because I so couldn’t wait to share with another just how crappy “life was being to me.” The crux of the mix is when I realize that I had contributed much with my salty perspective. I’ve found separating the good-Lynn from the blue-Lynn is advantageous at this time. Call it denial, call it irresponsible but being able to put the blame of my tainted musings on an inanimate object such as “the depression” or “the blues” enables me to sniff out more absurdities of perspective rather than layer blame upon blame on myself.

As I write this blog I can feel the clouds circling my brain sprinkling out reminders of financial insecurity, aging, etc. and so if I take a tip from myself and go into the eye of the storm before it even sets into motion, I can already see some of the absurdities of how I respond to life uprooting themselves for viewing and pleasure. For example, this weekend my young neighbors came to our door asking for help concerning a beautiful, starved Labrador Dog that a friend had rescued. In the course of meeting the dog, I learned that our neighbor family had suffered from “foot-mouth” disease over the past month. Just the mere mention of fever blisters was enough for my lips to begin tingling and popping forth with a set for each side of my mouth of one of the banes of existence that has not darkened the shores of my lips for at least a year. I could pile this reality on to the reality of looking for a steady income and really just nose dive into a fetal position but instead will relish the absurdity of it all!

For you see dear beloved ones I really do believe there will be sunshine after the storm(s)!

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It’s a wonder any of us ever actually choose to get married, much less decide that we’re in love with another person and want to have a relationship with them. Let’s face it, according to a 2011 Pew Research marriage survey, marriage is at an all time low in America at 51% of adults getting married. Pew goes on to say that, Having a successful marriage is “one of the most important things” in life for 36% of adults, according to a 2011 Pew Research survey. An additional 48% said it is “very important but not the most” important.”

Later this afternoon, I’ll be interviewing Marcia “Naomi” Berger who is known globally as the Marriage Maven, about her latest book, “Marriage Meetings for lasting love: 30 Minutes a Week to the Relationship You’ve Always Wanted” on BTR’s Hope42Day. When the publicist first sent me Naomi’s book I was at once interested to have a guest who could offer tools to my listeners about having a good marriage but also hesitant because “I’ve already been there and done that…hasn’t everybody?”

But, no, not all of us have created a vehicle that cultivates and supports a loving marriage for the long haul. That’s why many of us are still Googling to find the answers and why my friend and fellow web radio host Psychic Tee has a clamoring of listeners calling in to her shows, especially when she offers advice and readings about love and marriage.

For the record, there should be a special award given to my husband for sticking it out with me as we muddled through the first decade of our marriage. Along the way we learned to remember not to take each other for granted and not to throw things at each other (physically or verbally). 24 years later, we have found lots of ways to enjoy each other and be grateful for our time. Thankfully, we’ve always seemed to find ways to make each other laugh. For example, I wish I could secretly take a video of David dancing to the theme song from the TV Show Castle (which he does every time we watch it and makes me laugh every time) but you’ll just have to click on the hyperlinked Castle and imagine it for yourself.

Listen to what Marriage Maven Naomi Berger has to say about Marriage Meetings and keep in mind, all good things come to those with patience and the willingness to work on themselves!

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Ugh! I love Vanity Fair Magazine because the articles are so well-written–even in this day and age of Laissez-Faire writing and publishing. And I especially like the page that features a celebrity who has been asked questions such as: “What trait do you deplore in others?” and “What characteristic do you deplore most in yourself?”

If I were to be asked those questions my answer would be “codependency” . It’s such an un-sexy trait whether you are the recipient or the giver. Often such adjectives as “obsequious” and/or “passive” decorate its pathos as well. A decade or so ago I was introduced the the Enneagram concept and guided that as I reviewed the various types that I would know when I had landed on the type that was probably mine because I would NOT want to be that type. Of course, my “type” is Type 2 which is the Helper. And while I’m at it, I might as well admit that I’m the “dog” on the Chinese Calendar (which means I’m patient, diligent and kind) and that my blood type is O+, which is the most common blood type.

On the surface, all of these characteristics would seem like traits that I’ve been working towards for a long-time in my spiritual quest, and they are except for my blood type which is out of my control (in my awareness) it’s just that they are so normal, so homogeneous, so blase. Or maybe they’re just the curd to the milk of my personality when left unattended. Would HR the Dali Lama be codependent if he weren’t self-realized? Was Mother Teresa a Type 2 on the Enneagram? For someone who believes in the Unity of Mankind, isn’t it a wonderful attribute to have such a common blood type?

To me codependency is like bland cheese neutralizing the opinions and ideas of mankind. Ire is never allowed into any conversation with active codependency nor is confrontation. Instead a burbling cauldron of slow and steadily burning irritation is created when unspoken words and feelings are swallowed, ideas are squelched and opinions are exhaled to the breezes. The more cunning codependents find passive-aggressive outlets to cut away the ties that bind them.

The only way out is for us to recognize when we are being codependent with someone or that they are being codependent with us but of course it takes two to tango. What movie do you really want to see? What do you really want to eat tonight? What would you rather do with your time this afternoon? Such seemingly benign answers that can become frozen from the plaque-like growth of our codependent ways. Oh I suppose there are more acute traits that one can posses such as socio-patho or psycho-patho personalities that can cause severe harm to others. But similar to how one falls to sleep and ultimately dies from over-exposure to the cold, so can the best parts of us go to sleep and die from over-exposure to codependency.

I was so dreading blogging this post about codependency until I thought about the Comedian Rachel Feinstein doing a bit about the codependent and it made me happy. Very happy.

It’s okay to be “one of many” if the YOU are the ONE who speaks up for themselves….just in a non-aggressive way of course!

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Even though I’ve sung a lot in my life including singing duets and rounds with my brother, Howdy, who, although currently is the President of a popular men’s choral group in Jacksonville, FL called “Big Orange chorus” has been singing pretty much all his life, it’s only been in the last few weeks that I had the realization of just how sensitive I am to the sound of people’s voices.

My brother Howdy is on the left and his son, my nephew, Howdy III is on the far right

Two recent incidents come to mind. I won’t link you to either one for sake of anonymity for the people involved so perhaps you can take my realization and apply it to your own interactions and see what you hear in the voices in your daily life. The first example is a female DJ who I would guess is in her 30’s. Her voice grates on my nerves and she has never done anything in her DJ duties that has ever indicated that she is anything but the nicest of humans. But I hear in her voice an ego and almost a self-assured mocking that incites me to want to knock her off her block. I have no idea if my judgement from listening to her voice is correct; however, I do realize that just her voice sets my nerves on edge.

The second example is a person who I dearly love who has only recently found the inner strength to stand up on their own two feet and declare their place in the world. When this person talks, their voice sounds as if there might be polyps on their vocal chords. And there might be, I don’t know, but what I’m basing the sound of their voice on is that when this person speaks their voice flows for just the first sentence or two and then their voice sounds as if their words are being funneled through a cheese grater. The voice seems to stop flowing the minute this person realizes they feel insecure and are being heard!

I’ve written before about “toning” with your voice for healing. I am by no means a professional “toner”, but I have found toning to really help me. Especially if I am stuck and/or can’t quite put my finger on what I am feeling. When I first began, I used to sit crossed legged in our guest room and let out sounds from low notes to high notes moving my voice/sound from my root chakra and on upwards to the highest note I could sound out. I could actually feel when my voice/sound would catch where the feeling was stuck and then I’d focus on those notes until the notes became unstuck. Be careful when doing this around a cat or dog friend who is well-connected to you. My cat Data used to run across the room when I began toning, run up my lap and touch my lips with her paw (sheathed of course!).

We humans are such animals!! I believe the more we accept this about ourselves, the more we can recognize and learn about the natural gifts we have inside. I mean, it makes sense to me that our hearing can work for us well beyond just hearing the sound. I remember when I began working in the fast-paced publishing environment “hearing” the shhh-shhh sound of some of the words that the Texan Ad execs (specifically the men) would pepper throughout their conversation with others, especially when they were trying to make a sale. There was a sound in their voices that would often conjure up images of fine leather plush seats, smooth whiskey poured neat and potent cigar or pipe smoke wafting up and around a bent cowboy hat.

Maybe my sensitivity to voice is one of the reasons that I don’t like to listen to myself in interviews because I can “hear” what I was feeling and more times than not, I really prefer not to be that obvious!

And of course what is my favorite DJ on KUTX.org, John Aillee playing right now as I am blogging about voice and toning?? None other than the wonderful Craig Hella Johnson’sConspirare singing Joby Talbot’s “Path of Miracles” which starts off with what sounds like Toning and/or Trance Singing! Love it when everything moves in sync! Makes me believe I’m right on target writing about the voice.

So…..why don’t you play with this? If not with your own voice then wake up to the sounds in the voices all around you. What are the sounds of life telling you?

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I laugh at myself a lot. Bless my little heart. I must have made a really strong pact with the Universe to be authentic because it seems like it doesn’t give me one inch to fake it til I make it most of the time. Take my car (no, please, really take it!) it’s a good little car considering it was born in 1999 and has over 189K miles on it. And it is sporty with a little engine that always does. But the convertible top has had to be replaced and bless their little hearts, my husband and brother replaced the top themselves (original DIY!) leaving just enough of a gap in one side where the top connects to the windshield that when it rains, drops get in and collect. The first morning after a rain when I realized this, I was backing up our driveway headed to a coaching appointment and the inside of my car sounded like I was at the beach with the waves gently wafting on the beach. But I wasn’t at the beach, I was in Austin, Texas and so I looked down at my floorboard to discover that over an inch of water had collected in the floorboard of my car.

Of course, I chose to keep my coaching appointment and so on the 20 minute drive had the opportunity to not let the crazy reality of driving up in a car full of water effect the delivery of career coaching for the client. She never knew!

This morning as I sit in my pjs keeping my commitment to daily blogging for this year, I’m reminded that many of us are in similar disparate situations. Especially us writers who work from our home offices. Somewhere in here there’s a mirror image of how we act outwardly differently then we feel inside and in most professional instances, that is good. Even so, it’s important for us to remember to acknowledge what it is that we’re feeling inside too and not let it get lost. One of my good friends, I’ll call her “N”, exposed her daily wearing of pajama jeans to her blog readers during a time of intense depression and change after a divorce. I don’t have the stats to support how much pajama jeans stocks went up after N’s sharing, but I’m betting they did. Who wouldn’t want to be comfy and look good without notice when going through a dark period of their lives?! A whole lot of us! And we were all grateful that N had the courage to let us know about her find and her process through the mucky part of her life.

Not sure how I’ll be able to weave the broken zippered sweat shirt jacket that I’m wearing over my pjs this morning, but I know I will and that sharing this part of who I am keeps me humble (and cuts down on the wear and tear of my good clothes too!). Don’t hate me because I’m comfortable!

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And the Universe continues to laugh at and with me! After decades of being shown in numerous ways that I am but “one of many”, yet wanting so badly to be considered awesomely unique, I find myself smack dab in the middle of the baby boomer generation. I’ve survived and thrived in life just long enough to know how to turn a fact that I have to accept, into a palatable form, by re-defining definitions to suit my mind and heart. For instance, yes I am a baby boomer and yes, I am right in the middle of the generation AND we are a generation of all kinds of unique minds and hearts. The older I get, the more I find this definition to be true.

I believe that many of us baby boomers also think (and would secretly be like) the Millennial Generation if we were brave enough to let ourselves be ourselves. Like Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess, for example. Jenny didn’t grow up with the likes of Emily Post or Miss Manners breathing down her neck like most of us BBs (though I think Jenny would appreciate Miss Manners for her snide wit) so one/we could say that she is automatically freer to say and be who she is BUT if truth be told, I think many of us bbs would be just as outspoken as Jenny if fear wasn’t part of the DNA sequence of our generation. This blog for this year (Raving Boomer) is my attempt to break through our BB structure and be a voice in the wind for us all….like Abbie did for many of us before our thirties.

In my younger days, I always felt so different from everybody else and then I discovered that a.) most of us felt or feel different from everybody else and b.) in some of the situations that I found myself in like a conservative boarding school that was military for the guys—I was indeed very different from everybody else! If I was good at math or at least statistics I’d be able to whip out some stats that support the sheer number of people in my generation that all feel different, but since I’m not good at math (but believe EVERYTHING can be explained mathematically) I’ll just leave it to you, the reader, to decide if you relate to what I blog about. And please jump in with your two cents if for no other reason then to encourage me to show more of my skin!

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The first time I really wrestled with mortality and reality was after a weekend of psychedelic imbibing that pretty much burnt away any filters my brain and consciousness came with and any defenses I had created along the way. My response was to dive into intense fear of being alive with constant panic attacks and severe anxiety. Nothing brought me peace, except my big red Golden Retriever who kept a watchful eye on me as my serenity sentry.

The blessings from this time were plentiful including getting into some much needed therapy and finally sobriety. During this journey, I cobbled together a belief system and spiritual path created from many discoveries and learnings which helped me to find peace about death. I believe this acceptance allowed me to be there for others in their time of grief and also for friends who were making their own transition from this life to the next.

Two “teachers” come to mind this holiday season as it seems many of us are experiencing a dance with death. One is a friend I’ll call “N”. N and I were part of a group of women (he being the only male) who explored and investigated all kinds of spirituality and psychic worlds. Our whole intent as a group was to learn how to help in healing animals, people and the planet. About a year into our studies, N found out that he had AIDS. We all gathered around him and loved him through the next two years until his passing. I will be forever grateful to N for allowing us to experience his most intimate experience of life in his last years on Earth. One of the lessons I took from N was that each person’s choices to how they handle their illness, life and death is ultimately their choice! And the best way I could help N was not to try to save him with all the ideas, information and knowledge that I possessed but rather to love him and accept him fully where he was at even though he chose a different way to handle his disease than I thought I would have chosen for myself in the same situation. I learned that this kind of all purpose accepting love would break my heart open to grow even bigger.

The other teacher I’ll call “I”. “I” had beaten non-Hodgkin Lymphoma 11 years prior to when I met him. A year later a cancer came raging back that was not Hodgkin. My friend “I” handled his prognosis in a way that I will always hope that I would follow if God forbid I found myself in his situation. In the beginning, he held a large pot-luck party with friends and family to let them know about his diagnosis, the process and how he wished to have his time unfold with all of us along the way. He gave us all permission to have our feelings and to be there for him (if we chose to) in our own special way. Some cooked meals, some cleaned house, some took him to appointments. “I” definitely took the power out of his death sentence. His life and how he chose to handle his last years encouraged me to become the kind of person that I always hoped I could be. The last week on Earth, I picked him up from an appointment and we went for an early lunch at Magnolia Cafe with his constant companion of the oxygen tank. I was so grateful for our conversation about life, and what was on the other side. And he was able to shed some tears about the beauty of it all and also some pain and sadness. I’m so grateful that I was able to just be there and hold the space without interjecting myself.

Who knows the whys and wherefores of this life that we are all living right now. We’re all really just doing the best we can as a result of the choices we’ve made up until now. I will tell you that, for me, I’ve learned that in illness, dying or death situations going fully into the love that you have in your heart and allowing it to break through the crusty constraints you’ve let settled around your heart is the way to peace. A warm kind of peace.

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Okay, sure I’ll admit it. I can be a bit of a drama Queen, but then if you’ve followed me for very long…you know that about me! But I couldn’t come up with a better way of explaining how I experienced this morning. My feelings felt like how my tongue experiences the taste of Vietnamese soup. Sweet and sour.

The morning began with me cuddled up in bed attempting to sleep away another dark and rainy day. I heard what I thought was the normal morning sounds of David drying his hair. But the sound kept going on and on and as I was in that state of being half awake and half asleep, rather than waking up, my writer mind began making up stories. Stories about how much I loved my husband for always getting cleaned up in the morning even if he planned to work all day from home. Stories about how much I loved his great head of hair. Stories about how funny it was that he was going on and on with drying it, especially since there really wasn’t that much to dry. And then my consciousness woke up a little bit more and realized that what I was hearing wasn’t the hair dryer, but rather the wet vac. That could only mean that because of the heavy rain last night, water had found other ways to seep in through our floorboards.

Our home had flooded again.

I popped up to go investigate forgetting to put my glasses on, hair rumpled, and mouth guard in (being nice also added extra points to my concern for him resolutely vacuuming up the mess, not that there were points to be had but in a good long-term relationship, it’s the little things that count….). David asked me to rally the cats from the garage into the kitchen so that he could wet vac up the water in there. And I set about calming the cats and fixing the dogs’ breakfasts. We both remained amazingly calm even though we knew this latest flooding meant we’d have to replace the Pergo in the dining room at some point soon. Adding to that long line of “things we need to replace soon.”

After breakfast and reading Michael Barnes’ latest Out & About column in the American-Statesman, the back porch beckoned me to sit outside for some quiet time. Our backyard backs up to the Williamson Creek and the frogs were singing all about the fresh water barreling through so how could I resist them? All the trees bordering the boundaries of our acre and a half were glistening in the breaking morning sun and the Blue Jays vacillated between angry squawks and happy chirps that sounded like wooden wind chimes blowing in the breeze. As you can imagine, the hypnotic glory of the morning influenced my heart to open to what was beautiful and to be grateful!

And I continued to feel grateful even when we realized all that rain meant that my convertible had probably flooded again.

I’d forgotten to fix/mend/Gerry-rig where there is a gap between the top of my car and the windshield and so my car had flooded again. And somehow I was able to keep feeling grateful for having a car, having a car that runs, having a wet vac that works great and having a really clean car. That and the sun is breaking through the clouds so I can take the top down to let it evaporate out all the humidity. Plus it looks like the Crepe Myrtles are so ecstatic that new buds are bursting to say hello to the world.

Oh I still have my response to mold allergies which means that even with the sprays and shots the ever present congestion remains. And somewhere between pruning the front yard and loving on the cats I’ve acquired a poison ivy rash that runs from the side of my ear down and around the back of my neck and up the other side. So I’ll make an appointment with my allergist to get a script and on my way I’ll stop and get a large Americano while listening to The Takeaway on KUT.Org. Why not make the most of it?

I’m grateful that in the midst of the sweet and sour morning that unfolded today, I’m able to keep enjoying the bright spots along the way. This isn’t always true for me, sometimes I can dip into a melancholy that borders on feeling like a psychotic depression, but I believe what helps inflate the life rafts of serenity that can seemingly come out of nowhere at the most unexpected times, is to be in continuous prayer to all that is good and to ask for the serenity and peace of acceptance. Even during those times when we don’t think we need it. There just has to be some kind of cache in the other dimensions outside of our reality that stores up our prayers and thoughts for those times we need to be buoyed through life.

A raft ship of Grace.

May peace be with you and us all! And not too much water. No flood water…

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Warning! This is another post to encourage you into the practice of meditation. So, those of you who have no desire to explore this possibility for helping you to find contentment and peace are welcome to click on to the next headline waiting for your attention.

How quiet is your mind? If your mind is like mine, most of the time it’s not. I’ve usually got at least three or four streams of thinking going on at the same time (and probably more if I would sit still long enough to have it measured). Most of us already have mind chatter keeping us company from the minute we get up until we go to sleep. Then you add in one, two or several forms of electronic media that many of us have access to and it’s a wonder that any of us get anything done! Which voice do you pay attention to? Where do you put your focus?

As many of my spiritual elders, sisters and brothers have shared with me through the years, dedicating 20-40 minutes of meditation practice at least once a day can help us to listen beyond the noise. There are as many forms of meditations as there are unique kinds of people in the world…find the one that your heart (and soul) has an ahhh response to when you practice it. With that said, here are some basic tips that I’ve picked up over the years to remember about meditation that seem to align with many of the practices that I’ve been exposed which are:

1.) Try to find the same time to meditate everyday. This may vary because after all there is LIFE, but if you’re intention is to meditate every morning having the same time will help you to carry out your meditation.

2.) Find a place where you are comfortable sitting. I have heard that someone who is deeply disciplined in the practice of meditation can connect with that inner peace anywhere and anytime, but for those of you who may be starting out…..be kind to yourself and give yourself all the help possible so that you can sit still.

3.) Light a candle, incense or if you’re outside, breathe in deep the smell of your surroundings. I like ritual so for me, lighting an incense tells my mind that we’re going to get quiet. My dogs even know that and will run to jump in my chair and curl up by my side (I’m sure if we could see their canine thought bubbles they would read, “finally!”)

4.) Follow your breath. My yoga teacher of many years used to say this after every class as we lay in savasana (yoga meditation pose) and what he meant was to let any thoughts or worries of the day drop off as we paid attention to the act of breathing in and breathing out. Just paying attention to your breath will help you to let go of much of the chatter in your head. Mostly.

5.) Do not judge your practice. Explore how you can find that deep inner peace more fully, absolutely! But, if you find that it is all you can do to sit for 10 minutes, let that be okay. You can work up to longer if you choose. I try to make my time thirty minutes, but please know for many of us just the practice of sitting still and learning to let go is enough. Even sitting outside with the breeze on my face did not stop my ego-mind from wanting to interfere with my meditation when I first began. Most anything that you think that you need to be doing during your meditation time can be done afterwards.

6.) Meditation is not a competition. For many of us in the Western World our thoughts have been trained to think of many things that we do as a competition. Your meditation time is between you and your higher power whatever or whoever that may be. I remember several years ago talking about my meditation with a friend who had practiced the Kriya meditation techniques passed down through the lineage of gurus in the Self-Realization Fellowship founded by Paramahansa Yogananda. As we were walking and talking I told her about a profound psychic experience I had during meditation and in her gently way she shared that in her experience, those psychic experiences could be a distraction from the real intent of being able to drop our ego and connect with the God of our understanding.

This sharing is just to remind you that you can drop all the cacophony of voices within and without at anytime if you so choose and giving yourself the gift of a daily meditation practice is a lovely way to do this.